


Ain't We Got Fun?

by delicateloser



Category: IT - Stephen King
Genre: Bates Motel AU, Eventual Smut, F/M, M/M, and crossdressin, eddie is gonna be murderin, mentions of underage fooling around, rape/assault mentions, this is actually not a very nice fic proceed w caution
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-01
Updated: 2018-08-10
Packaged: 2019-05-31 13:49:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15120740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/delicateloser/pseuds/delicateloser
Summary: Edward Kaspbrak was the boy who could get away with anything. He was by no means a good liar. But since Sonia did all the lying for him, all it took was the batting of his eyelashes, and an overprotective mother to establish his innocence.Sonia Kaspbrak had just wanted a fresh start when she and her son moved to the strange town of Derry. But when things go terribly wrong from the start, and she learns a dark truth about Eddie, she's forced to cover up much more than she bargained for.(Psycho/Bates Motel AU. Eventual reddie!)





	1. in the meantime, in between time

**Author's Note:**

> chapter warning(s): mentions of rape/assault, implied underage (17yo) fooling around
> 
> (thanks so much to my gf, who has been so supportive and kept me inspired and motivated for this fic!! love you baby.)

**I** t had been five years since Eddie and his mother had moved to the town of Derry. Five years since the death of his step-father, and five years that he had been struggling to gain freedom from under his mother's wing.

At twelve years old, Eddie had been a tiny carbon copy of her. He spoke like her, his mannerisms were from her, his wardrobe was chosen by her, and his friends were approved by her. Including his best friend, Bill.

She had loved Bill Denbrough -- at first. A very sweet, stuttering twelve year old boy, who cared about protecting Eddie from the world just as much as she did.

But the older Bill got, the more reckless he became. He lost the stutter, but gained a ridiculous amount of confidence, and a need to constantly be doing something interesting. And Eddie was obsessed with it. It was all new and exciting for him. His mother hated it.

Eventually, after small signs of disapproval from her, Eddie had stopped telling her about what went on when he and Bill spent time together entirely. Especially now at seventeen, when it had evolved into something much different than a simple.. friendship.

Eddie's back hit the storage closet door as soon as it clicked shut, and Bill's body was pressed immediately up against his own. Their lips came together in a harsh and clumsy movement, and Bill's hands hovered over his waist, as they always did when he was uncertain. Eddie gave his arm a hard tug, and he gripped onto him tightly after that, his tongue pushing it's way into Eddie's mouth as Eddie stood up on his toes to meet the passion of the kiss.

Bill wasn't exactly what Eddie would call the _best_ kisser, but he'd improved a lot since they first started doing this. Then again, Eddie was so into him, he wasn't sure anything would have stopped him or changed his mind.

For Eddie, befriending Bill all those years ago had been eye opening. The fun, exciting things Bill was always doing? Eddie would never have been brave enough to do alone. And Bill was _so_ charming and sweet to adults, they got away with everything. Because Bill Denbrough could never do anything wrong.

And of course Eddie had always been considered a saint, thanks to his way of dressing, his shy nature, and, well. His mother. Which is why no one would have expected either boy would be getting hot and heavy in the school storage closet, and certainly not together.

Eddie gripped onto Bill's shirt, and as their lips broke apart, Bill began kissing his way down over his jaw and throat instead. Eddie tossed his head back against the door to give him full access to the skin, the opposite hand moving up to run through Bill's hair.

When he bit down on a more sensitive spot, Eddie let out a moan, fingers pulling.

"Ouch, Eddie." Bill panted, trying to duck his head out of Eddie's grip and free his hair. "I said before-"

"I know," Eddie breathed, releasing him quickly, "I'm sorry, I forgot."

When it came to he and Bill's relationship, Bill was the one who called the shots. He liked the control, and while it had been an obstacle at first, Eddie almost never questioned it anymore. What Bill wanted was just the way it would be. And one rule was that Bill could be rough... but he didn't want Eddie doing it back.

Another rule being that anything that happened between them was a secret. Bill's idea. He wasn't out yet. Neither was Eddie, but he still had a reputation for being gay anyway, thanks to an endless stream of rumors that stemmed from a simple incident the locker room. (A staring incident, to be exact. It really wasn't his fault.)

"Well don't forget."

When their lips met again Bill took Eddie's hand, pressing it to the waistband of his jeans. Eddie worked quickly to unbutton them, but before he could slide his hand between the fabric and around Bill's length, the door his entire body was pressed against disappeared behind him. His arms flailed to try and hold onto the frame, but his fingers missed. He cried out in pain when his back hit the floor, Bill having been unprepared to take on his weight, and so he had released him.

When he opened his eyes it was to find another boy above him, staring down at him through thick black glasses, curly hair framing his freckled face.

"Holy shit, were you guys just- did I-?" The boy asked in what was, to Eddie, the most obnoxiously loud voice. Maybe the hallways just echoed.

"No," he and Bill answered in unison, and Bill helped him up off the floor.

"We were-"

"Studying." Bill interrupted, and Eddie was thankful, because he was a bad liar.

"In the.. storage closet?" The other boy asked. Eddie didn't like the smirk on his face, or the way his eyes lingered so long on him.

"What were you coming in here for, then?" He snapped back.

"The mop. I spilled like, six lunch trays by accident in the cafeteria. They told me to clean it up." The boy adjusted his glasses.

"How the fuck did you spill six lunch trays?" Eddie asked, still defensive, and trying to discreetly fix his hair.

"It's easy when you've flipped the table over." He shrugged.

"How did-"

"I gotta go. Bye Eddie." Bill said suddenly, nudging Eddie before he turned and started to leave down the hall.

"Wait- Bill!" Eddie shouted after him, expression nearly twisting into that of a pout, and looking back at the new boy. He opened his mouth to maybe say 'bye', anything to announce he was taking his leave as well, but he didn't even know this person. So he didn't find it necessary. He started following Bill instead.

"Hey," the other boy said, and Eddie looked back at him. "I won't tell anyone." His voice was softer, this time. Eddie studied him, chewing on his lower lip nervously.

"What makes you think what happened here was a secret?" He held his ground, but the boy let out a laugh.

"Whatever it was, you were doing it in a storage closet."

"... Touché." Eddie replied.

"Richie." The other boy said. "My name, I mean."

"Okay." Eddie muttered, and there was a brief, awkward silence between them.

"Maybe we should pick up where... you know, you guys left off in there?" Richie asked, the corners of his lips quirking up as he tried to fight off a smirk. Eddie turned away from him to leave.

"Bye Richard."

"Richie is fine!" He heard him call from behind him.

 

* * *

 

 **E** ddie sat quietly in his third period classroom, while other students were all talking and goofing off loudly around him. The teacher was trying to settle them down to begin, but all Eddie could think about was whether Bill was upset with him for before.

It hadn't been his fault they'd gotten caught, but still, Bill was punishing him for it with radio silence. Maybe it was only fair -- Eddie did a lousy job of keeping himself upright when the door had moved. If he'd just stayed on his feet they would have been able to make a more solid excuse.

He was so busy putting himself down for what had been a silly mistake, he almost didn't notice that at the front of the classroom, his teacher was introducing a new student. He glanced up in time to meet eyes with-

"Richard Tozier. Hope you'll all be kind on his first day, heard he's already had quite the morning." She chuckled lightheartedly.

"Richie is fine, Karen." Richie smirked, and the teacher let out a startlingly loud cackle.

"Oh, Richie, it's _Mrs. Thorne_! You take your seat, troublemaker." She was smiling despite her words, and Eddie didn't understand why. He felt a mild disgust at how she treated him as though his mindless humour were charming. "The open seat. Next to Edward, there." She continued.

Eddie realised that she meant next to him. He felt his entire body tense when he and Richie locked eyes again.

"Don't mind if I do," Richie replied to her, making his way through the aisle of desks before dropping carelessly into the seat beside Eddie.

"Hiya, Edward. Edward." Richie said, as though he were rolling the name around on his tongue, trying it out. "Eds." He concluded, shooting him a sly grin.

"Eddie." Eddie corrected him through grit teeth, avoiding looking directly at him in the hopes he would get bored and leave him alone.

"I like Eds." Richie said indifferently.

"I don't. Don't call me that." Eddie replied, finally looking at him. Richie was watching him, his knee bouncing under the desk, eraser tip of his pencil held between his teeth. It brought a grin to Richie's face just to see Eddie's lingering gaze.

"Stop." Eddie said simply. "I'm trying to learn."

"Learn what? Because I can teach-"

"Can you two be quiet?"

Eddie looked ahead in time to see Greta staring back at _him_ specifically, and his expression soured.

Greta Keene had had it in for Eddie for a long time. Her mother was a police officer, and her ex-partner -- stepfather of Beverly Marsh, another girl at school -- had disappeared around the time he and his mother had moved to Derry. No one had ever suspected he or his mother beyond a couple of questions at the time of the disappearance, but it didn't stop Greta from sticking her nose where it didn't belong.

"Mind your business." Eddie told her, and she gave a dramatic roll of her eyes, before facing the front of the classroom. Richie snickered beside him, and Eddie then turned to him.

"Damn, Eddie is _sassy..._  that's hot," he teased, and Eddie narrowed his eyes.

"Leave me alone." He whispered, and while it didn't wipe the smirk off of Richie's face, he didn't say anything else.

What little there was in the remainder of the day was Richie-free up until Eddie was being picked up early by his mother. He had another therapy appointment, and was in the midst of climbing into the car, when someone's loud shouting carried across campus.

"Eddie!" Richie was beaming and waving, like a kindergartener with a crush, with a few other students around him. He was supposed to be in class. Eddie pulled the car door shut.

"Do you know him?" Sonia asked im a hurried tone while she pulled away from the curb, her eyes darting between the road and Eddie in concern.

"He's just a new boy in my class." Eddie told her, resting his temple against the window.

"He was with _Beverly Marsh_ , Edward. That spells trouble. Do not talk to that boy," his mother said, her voice shaking slightly in what Eddie assumed to be panic and worry.

"Okay, ma." It wasn't as if he wanted Richie to talk to him. He was just everywhere the whole day.

 

* * *

 

" _ **E** ddie, go get the last boxes from the car, would you?_" Sonia urged him, turning in the kitchen as the skirt of her sundress twirled, and the twelve-year-old let out a groan.

" _I carried so many already, mama_ ," he started, but he caught 'that look' on her face, and it had him scurrying for the door.

His mother had decided to take on the responsibilities of a motel. They would live in the home just up on the hill, and they'd remodel the rest. Eddie didn't really see the appeal, but his mother said she wanted to meet people. Which was strange even back then from a woman who preached now for Eddie not to trust anyone.

When he had reached the end of the long steps leading down the hill, he noticed a police car there. Leaning against the hood of the car was a big, scary looking Officer, who tipped his hat to Eddie when he saw the caution in the boy's eyes.

" _Evenin', son. Your mother in the house?_ " The Officer had asked.

His mother was by no means an intimidating woman. Maybe to Eddie, because she had him pressed to tightly under her thumb, but when he was a child he remembered how she was viewed as ' _so stunning and charming_.'

Since coming to the unfortunate town of Derry, his mother had put on a good amount of weight. She no longer wore those dresses that were so vivid in his memories. There wasn't any question about whether Eddie still found her beautiful, because of course he did, but she had certainly lost the social flair and sparkle in her eyes.

But when they first came here five years ago, his mother was this single, gorgeous woman, and all eyes were _always_ on her. Including one Officer Marsh.

Eddie remembered him stalking around the house for days after their first meeting. He remembered at first there was flirting -- from both the officer and his mother. But he also remembered where things changed. Comments made on the porch about her body, or her looks. He remembered his mother standing and telling him to 'go on inside and play' while she spoke in harsh whispers to the police officer, about how he had a family, and she didn't want to see his face around the motel again. And he remembered things he didn't want to.

Even if he tried, he'd never forget the rainy weather on the night Officer Marsh forced his way into their home and assaulted his mother. The floor had been soaked with water from the man's drenched clothing and boots. He'd never forget the sight of her in a beautiful white sundress, with many bright yellow flowers, stabbing him so many more times than necessary with a large kitchen knife. It had smelled awful when she made him help her remove the body from the house, rolled up in the great big hall entrance rug. Like blood. He remembered that.

" _We can't call the police. He_ is _the police, Eddie._ They'll lie." He always wondered if that would have been true. If they could have called someone for help, to maybe prevent the clear image in his mind of Officer Marsh's body sinking down, down into the deepest parts of the lake at the quarry.

But after the past five years, that question seemed unimportant.


	2. mama, we're all full of lies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter warning(s): brief underage (17yo) fooling around, mentions of mental illness, blood
> 
> (thanks so much to my gf, who has been so supportive and kept me inspired and motivated for this fic!! love you baby.)

“ **A** nd the treatment has been working fine?”  
  
“I think so.” Eddie replied to the doctor, absently fiddling his fingers together, until she reached for his arm. He allowed her to take it, and slide his sleeve up. However he averted his gaze, not wanting to view the skin himself, nor view her expression if she was less than pleased with the results. His heart began to race. What if she could see it?  
  
“The skin is still dry. Do you find yourself scrubbing them as much as before?” She asked.  
  
“Not after taking the medication, no.” He told her, but her reaction didn’t sound as bad as he’d been dreading it would be. No shock in her voice.  
  
Since Eddie had moved to Derry, he’d developed a number of disorders he’d never experienced before. Doctors and therapists said it was only normal; his step-father had died. He hadn’t handled it well. Only Eddie knew that it went deeper than that.  
  
Post-traumatic stress disorder, obsessive compulsive disorder, and anxiety were only _three_ of the things listed as a confirmed diagnosis. The anxiety worsened the other two.  
  
If it got too far out of hand, Eddie had found himself scrubbing his skin raw until it bled. Scrubbing because he felt contaminated by something invisible to anyone else’s eyes.  
  
Luckily, with help from recent medications, there had been improvement in the severity of the washing.  
  
“If the medication is working, that’s good.” She turned to write something down, and Eddie looked around the room to focus on pictures, paintings, the unorganized magazines on the rack beside him. Anything to ease how anxious he felt being inside of a doctor’s office.  
  
“Alright, Eddie, I think we’re going to increase your dosage _just_ a little, and see if it helps. And keep you regularly moisturizing your hands - okay?” She requested. “Every time you wash them.”  
  
“Okay. Thank you.” Eddie replied, moving to stand. She stood and offered her hand, and he looked wary. But he took it, shaking it firmly with his own, before smiling at her and slipping out into the hallway. It took all of his willpower not to reach for his fanny pack, to take his hand-sanitizer out.  
  
“You don’t need it.” He whispered to himself. “Your hands are clean.” He wandered to the nurse’s station, and waited for his prescription, only to stuff the sheet into his backpack. He would pick it up later.  
  
Bill was expecting him at his house to study, and he didn’t want to keep him waiting longer than necessary. After what had happened earlier in the day, he was already concerned Bill was upset, and he didn’t want to make it worse.

* * *

  
**T** he only sound between them was the sound of short and shallow breaths, Bill occasionally grunting or praising Eddie, and Eddie’s hand working quickly along his best friend’s length. In the privacy of Bill’s room they had wasted no time in picking back up where they had been interrupted earlier.  
  
And Eddie loved seeing Bill this way; reduced to this because of something _he_ did. And he could always tell when Bill was close, because of the sudden stuttered jerking of his hips, or the way he gasped and tossed his head back. He let his thumb brush over his sensitive tip, just gently, and that was all it took.  
  
A rough kiss was pressed to Eddie's lips immediately afterwards. But it was cut short when he had to excuse himself, briefly, the mess on his hand being too much to ignore.  
  
By the time Eddie had returned from washing - and then moisturizing - his hands, Bill had already redressed himself, and was across the room at his desk. When he met Eddie's confused expression, his eyes darted quickly to his papers and back.  
  
"Homework. We have a lot." Bill said simply. “So we should get started, right?”  
  
And Eddie hesitated, but only nodded. Sometimes Bill wasn't up for it to get him off, too, and that was okay.  
  
He took a deep breath as he tried to will away his prior arousal, and he moved over to sit beside him at the desk. He tugged his backpack closer, pulling up his work, and Bill was watching him expectantly. Eddie met his gaze, thoughtful, and a little anxious. He held his breath while building up some courage in his mind, twisting his pencil in his fingertips.  
  
"You know... therapy went well." He told him, and Bill smiled, before his eyes moved back down to the papers in front of him.  
  
"Oh?" He asked, and Eddie felt his nervousness leaving his body in a rush, a smile spreading over his features. Bill appeared open to listening, and it was as if a dam was broken, words spilling from his lips before he could stop them.  
  
"Today, we went over- you know- stuff about-"  
  
"Oh, shoot. I missed the notes again," Bill interrupted suddenly, and Eddie paused, a bit caught off guard to lose his place in what he was tripping over himself to say. But then he let out a soft laugh.  
  
"I swear, Billy, it's like you just don't want to do the work." He complained. It wasn’t the first time the notes had been forgotten. Or second, or third. And he’d have to walk him through the information, so maybe it was a bad time to discuss therapy. He mentally put it on a back burner to save the session for another conversation. “Have you ever taken them yourself?”  
  
"Sometimes. I just know you do it so well," Bill murmured in a lower voice, one that surprised Eddie, and a blush rose to his cheeks at the change in tone. Bill's hand moved down to the small of his back, his fingers beginning to massage him through his shirt. "Makes us a pretty good team, doesn't it?"  
  
Eddie liked the sound of being a team with Bill. It made his heart beat harder. And it made him feel so much more important in Bill’s eyes. He found himself nodding hurriedly, his own hand raising to cup Bill's cheek. He pulled him closer for a long, passionate kiss.  
  
"We're a great team," Eddie breathed when he pulled back, watching his partner with what could only be described as hearts in his eyes.  
  
"Great." Bill replied softly, before the hand disappeared from Eddie’s back, and he sat up straighter. "The notes?"

* * *

   
**W** hen he approached the motel, Eddie noticed an unfamiliar truck pulled up to the steps of the house. He was wary, at first. That is, before a curly-haired boy peered out from around the vehicle, flashing a bright smile at him. He rolled his eyes.  
  
“Richard,” He said as he began to walk around the truck.  
  
“Richie,” the other corrected him, and Eddie stopped, to give him a once over with his eyes.  
  
“Okay. Richie then.” He said, absently fiddling with his backpack straps. “How did you know where I live?”  
  
“Asked around. Everyone knows you and Mrs. K own the motel.” Richie explained. Eddie felt irritation at the casual mention of his mother, but he wasn’t even really sure why. Maybe because she didn’t want him around Richie.  
  
“So what are you doing here?” He asked.  
  
“I uh.. need a room.”  
  
“... Can you not read?” Eddie wondered, rhetorically. Maybe he was being rude to a potential customer, but his mother really had told him to stay away. If she caught him disrespecting her wishes, he’d be in trouble. “No vacancy. The front office says so. The sign says so. It means no available rooms.” He let him know, before turning to ascend the steps to his house.  
  
“Okay, I don’t actually need a room, I lied! Eds, wait-!“ Richie reached out to grab his arm, startling him. Eddie quickly pulled it back to himself, but he turned back around fully, allowing Richie to continue speaking.  
  
“I just... can’t stop thinking about.... the way you _literally_ fell for me, when we first met.” Richie said, and Eddie let out a groan at how cheesy and stupid that was.  
  
“Just because I fell on my ass because of something _you_ -“  
  
“Kidding! Kidding.” Richie interrupted to assure him, before his expression softened. “It was me who fell for you.” His breath sounded short. Was he serious? He was nervous. And with good reason, Eddie believed. He was really barking up the wrong tree here.  
  
“That’s really inappropriate to say.” Eddie told him, not missing a beat when he continued, “You just met me. And the first time you even saw me was when I was with my b- with Bill.” He reminded him, though he wasn’t sure if the words reached Richie’s ears, so he quickly added, “Do _not_ hit on me anymore.” Then he was turning on his heel to leave again.  
  
“Yeah but- well, he’s not your boyfriend.” Richie said from the bottom of the steps.  
  
“Which is none of your business!” Eddie hissed back. When he realised his volume, he cast a glance back toward the house. He couldn’t have his mother hearing any of this! “Please stay away from me.” He commanded in a quieter voice.  
  
He walked more quickly up the steps, and Richie sighed behind him.  
  
“Okay, see you tomorrow, Eds!” He  suddenly shouted out, and Eddie was sure he was doing it on purpose. What was his deal anyway?  
  
The way Eddie saw it: he just happened to be unlucky enough to have practically outed himself on Richie’s first day, and now the other boy had this weird crush on the one obvious gay kid at school. Sure, if he was gay too, it made sense. But Eddie was interested in Bill. Richie had to find someone else, he told himself, as he practically tiptoed across the porch to the door.  
  
“Eddie bear?” His mother was calling as soon as it opened. So much for stealth.  
  
“Yeah, I’m home.” There was a long pause that followed.  
  
“You’re late.”  
  
“Yeah, studying with Bill just ran a little long.” He explained, heart rate beginning to quicken with anxiety.  
  
“Dinner is on the table.” She replied absently from the other room. He could hear her soaps playing from the television.  
  
“Thanks ma.”  
  
He rounded the corner, taking off his backpack to set on the back of the kitchen chair. On the table were a few take out bags. It wasn’t very often that the kitchen got any actual use anymore.  
  
_”You’re late.”_  
  
_A fourteen-year-old Eddie had glanced up as he came in the door, finding his mother sitting at the kitchen table. She wore a long button up dress, apron around her waist, plates of plastic wrapped homemade food laid out in front of their usual seats._  
  
_“Sorry, mommy. I stayed after school because there were tryouts for the track team, and I-“_  
  
“Track team? _Edward, you really think you’re in any_ condition _to be joining track?” His mother had asked, staring at him, where he stood paralyzed in the doorway._  
  
_“I just thought..”_  
  
_“You have asthma, honey. You can’t run.” Her tone was soft, then, like she were babying him. “And I’m really going to need you around here, with me. To help with the motel.”_  
  
_“Can’t we hire someone for that?” Eddie had asked. He had regretted the words immediately. His mother’s expression darkened._  
  
_“I work with difficult customers, clean all day,_ slave _over the stove to make dinner for you, and you can’t even do this one thing for me?” She demanded, having stood up, and grabbed his plate of food from across the table._  
  
_“Ma, I-“ Eddie had flinched as she threw the dish into the sink — the glass shattering when it broke — and turned to him to point an accusatory finger._  
  
_“You are not joining the track team. You will be home every day, when I need you to be. End of discussion.”_  
  
Eddie felt himself trembling, his take out heating in the microwave. Even now, when his mother would do no more than pout over the broken rule, he was still struck with both dread and fear simply for disappointing her.  
  
He almost felt as though it would be better to face immediate consequences.  
  
With the microwave beeping loudly behind him, Eddie rushed to the bathroom, anxiety getting the better of him as he turned the handle for hot water. Soap tight in his grip, he shoved his hands under the faucet. Bubbles filled the sink quickly while he scrubbed, and tears welled up in his eyes, a sob escaping him because it wouldn’t come off.  
  
Only he could see that his hands were stained crimson with blood that _wouldn’t come off_.


End file.
